The Inner Most Thoughts of one, James Sirius Potter
by The Linnet
Summary: I, James Sirius Potter, am a God. Okay I pretty much suck in the classroom, but hey! Who needs exams when you're going to be a hot shot Quidditich player anyway? Nothing can stand in my way. Except, perhaps, a pretty, rough, French-but-not-really-French girl who may or may not have a thing for breaking my nose?
1. Chapter 1

_**Welcome to The Inner Most Thoughts of one, James Sirius Potter. I found this guy hiding on my hard drive (for how long, only he knows) and decided to start here while reworking and rewriting some of my other work. It's had a massive revamp from how it fell back into my hands and I feel it's ready for the real world.**_

 ** _Out of my own character, I'm looking for some kind person to beta read for me. If you've a keen eye for plot issues, character flaws and continuity errors then please get in touch. I welcome those (and anyone) to please give advice on these particular subjects either as a one off or if you can spare me some more time that would be awesome._**

 ** _As always any questions, concerns, comments or queries - don't be afraid to say 'em loud and say 'em proud._**

 _**Any and all characters, creatures, items or worlds recognisable do not belong to 'The Linnet' but rather to J. **_

10th June 2021.

It was that time of year again. The end of the school Quidditch championships. Since the war all the Magical Schools across the world chose to compete against each other in a way to keep the schools together, form long distance friendships and promote international solidarity. I, personally, thought it was all a load of bullshit. No one wanted Slytherin to get out of hand. Again. Some of the schools still held inter house tournaments, Hogwarts being one- Thank Merlin- but they were more peaceful matches. Practices. No one wants to let the side down by 'accidentally' killing one of the school team and losing us the championship.

The end of the championships was celebrated by a rather large and rather unnecessary, in my expert opinion, ball attended by all of the teams, upper class students, some parents, influential members of society and an annoying amount of press. Thankfully for me and Fred, this year's championship ball was being held at Hogwarts, which meant that at least I knew we'd have decent food, decent mead and a bloody good bed after all that exhausting work pretending like I gave a smelly rats behind what some old biddy who knew Dad at school thought or acting like a good boy for the media.

Knowing my parents, and a few aunts and uncles, would be at the party tonight, I made every effort to look the part – or I'd be dragged off by either Mum or Aunt Hermione (whoever caught me first) in my new, itchy, starched black dress robes before I headed down to the common room and threw myself on a my favourite, squishy armchair over by the fire. Not sure why it was on – It's summer.

"Alright, Freddie." I grinned at my partner in most crimes.

"Jamie! All set for tonight?" Fred tweaked his bow tie and pulled a face. "Any fair maiden on the evening's 'to do' list?"

"Not tonight, going stag." I said noticing a group of fifth years not too far away. I winked at them causing the 'okay' brunette to charm her attractive buddie's hair bright pink.

"Stop eyeing Roxie's mates." Fred warned. "She'll have your balls nailed to a Quidditch hoop." I didn't doubt that for one minute. Roxanne – or Roxie – was as pretty as she was fierce and that girl could win contests. Unfortunately, she also knew all of my hide outs and escape plans and could very quickly and easily make my life hell.

We passed the time with an exploding snap tournament, which I lost spectacularly, before we made our merry way down to the little holding pen behind the great hall to wait to be called to slaughter. Another down side to playing on the school team. Walking through the door I noticed that, yet again, we were the last of the Hogwarts team to arrive. Our Captain, Chloe Heart, shook her head, her dark hair bouncing in the magically forced curls spilling over her shoulders. Fellow chasers Elliot Tinsdon and Sharon Clough didn't look up at either of us, both clearly in a heated discussion. Probably about Elliot's nether regions. Fred's beater friend Avril Dean waved, a bright smile spreading across her face along with what look suspiciously like relief. And Keeper Jackson Woods was smoothing out his robes not paying any attention to the rest of the room. As per the norm. Seriously – The only reason we ever won a match was because the rest of us did everything, maybe including the odd cheating, to keep the quaffle away from him.

"We look like we're going to a bloody funeral." I muttered, just loud enough for the rest of the team to hear. It was true. The boys had all been handed rather similar black dress robes that had been given to them by Chloe two weeks before (too make sure everything fit, she'd said. But all of us had stuffed the robes into their trunks and forgotten until a few hours ago, 'except perhaps Woods. His looked tailored) while the girls wore black dresses, all different styles to suit the girl. Petite Sharon wore a 50's styled tea dress with a gold petticoat, her murky hair slicked back into a loose chignon. Avril had picked a Grecian styled flowing gown with a gold glittering broche on her chest. Leggy Chloe obviously had decided to show off the legs she was so famous for as she'd gone for the classic 'little black dress', with a sweetheart neck the dress cut off mid-thigh. They looked good. And they all bloody knew it.

"Kit colours, you know the rules, Potter." Chloe replied quickly. Durmstrang were the closest team to us, all wearing the same plum colour that clashed horribly with one of the girl's horrific facial acne. Salem's team lounged around, clearly not too chuffed with the time difference as each had a mug of potion not too far from reach, in their leafy green while Koldovstoretz stood, ever silent, at the opposite side of the room in dark green, almost black. The Mahoutokoro students looked too scared to sit down in their bridal white – they even played in white and it was still always white at the end of the match, that's dedication - while the Brazilian Wizarding School played exploding snap with the Uagadou School of Magic in on the floor in a mix of orange and yellow. The Beauxbatons' beauties, guys and girls, looked picture perfect in their usual powder blue.

"They're one down." I made the obvious observation out loud.

"You what, mate?" Wood was still pulling at his robes.

"Delacroix is missing." I heard some of the team laugh around me.

"Trust you to notice a bird's missing." Elliot laughed. "Mahoutokoro are missing Orisho – broke his leg last match with Durmstrang. Not that you care in the slightest."

Then we all heard the dreaded fanfare. Soon the doors would open and we'd be called out team by team, finishing with the host school. The Brazilian and Uagadou teams both hopped up off the floor, brushing themselves down, laughing and shaking hands with each other. I'm pretty sure I heard the Brazilian Captain, Naira Alves, promise a Uagadou chaser, Yaw Diallo, that she'd see him on the dance floor later. I'd have to watch out for that one – could be interesting. Then, Professor Longbottom welcome Mahoutokoro to the stage, calling their names one by one. The team walked out of the room in standard formation, team in pairs with Captain following – making allowances for the space that Orisho would have filled. Next came Salem, the ever so lovely Becci Holt giving the room a good look at her curvaceous behind as she sashayed into line. Captain Cash Bishop was clearly enjoying the sight. But I'd have been a liar if I said I wasn't enjoying it too.

"That's the only reason they keep her, you know." Sighed Sharon. "Hasn't had a goal all season, couldn't catch a cold in the middle of winter that one. Just eye candy."

"Close your mouth, Fred." Chloe laughed pushing Fred's chin.

After Salem, Uagadou took the stage, laughing with each other as they went. Koldvstoretz followed in their usual solemn manner. Naira then gathered her team together for their usual quick 'hurrah' before then bounced into line. The guys left in the behind again admiring Naira's bright flapper dress that swung with every cheerful step.

"How the hell are they so happy?" Jackson piped up. "They never win."

"Shut up, Jack." Chloe sighed. "Championship isn't old enough to say that."

Durmstrang took up their place in a flurry of plum next leaving Beauxbatons and us alone. I took the time to give my team a final once over. And then compared us to the always so well turned out team. Even after a match and with broken bones, they always looked rather perfect. Not that any of them ever got broken noses. And only one gave them. Captain and Seeker Jean Charron had his jet black hair smoothed back with his perfectly tailored dress robes wreaking of thousands of galleons. He stood a little away from the others looking like he was plotting murder though with my limited interactions with Charron it was more likely the poor boy was not enjoying being at an all English event. Keeper Rose Segal had conjured a mirror and was double checking her blond hair was still held in its intricate up do. The team's only present beater, Renaud Lane, stood behind Rose with his hand on her shoulder. Brothers Nicholas and Patrice Yount looked to be throwing the usual insults between each other under their breaths. One brother having his arm protectively wrapped around third Chaser, Soraya Travere's waist. I was sure that Soraya's ample chest had been magically reduced so she could get away with the plunging neck line of her satin gown without breaking the team's number one rule – Thou must never look a slut. Okay that wasn't an official rule, but we'd all long speculated it must be in the school handbook. Charron glanced at his watch and sighed.

"Nous devrons aller avec sur elle." He muttered before ordering, "Allons-y." His team, gracefully, moved to formation. Somewhere along the way the petite Nina Delacroix slid into the room and took her place next to a rather annoyed looking Lane. I'm pretty sure my heart stopped. Every bloke in this room thought Nina to be the most attractive of the Beauxbatons team. Not because she was physically the most attractive- that was clearly Soraya and her assets - but because she was the only one to not seem to care if she was pissed wet through, splattered with mud and blood covering her shirt. She was a classic beauty though, with a strong jawline but small chin, slight pointed nose and big eyes. Victoire had once said she looked like her to Grace Kelly and, after extensive research, I actually had to agreed. Her golden hair was twisted in a knot behind her right ear.

"Bien de vous montrer." Lane muttered. Behind him Charron huffed in agreement.

"La mode fin." She said with a finality. That one I knew! But I had to disagree. Fashionably late would be a dramatic swinging open of the doors of the great hall in the middle of Professor Longbottom's speech.

"Beau cul." Charron smirked. I actually wanted to hit the guy. I mean I did anyway most of the time but while I wasn't one hundred percent sure what Charron had just said, from the way Nina's muscles tightened and her shoulders squared, I'm pretty sure it wasn't good. Eventually, the Beauxbatons team made their way out of the room, Delacroix's dress shimmering like it was full of diamonds. All four remaining men in the room stopped to watch her disappear.

"Well that wasn't designed for a reason." Avril muttered.

"What?"

"Her back is like one big arrow to her bum."

"And?"

"Girl has a nice bum!"

"No rack, like." Wood mused.

"Travere has enough boob for the whole of France." Chloe scoffed. None of us could deny that. Travere had serious Sweater Stretchers."Anyway, our turn."

We walked out onto stage to the sounds of their headmaster introducing them by name. We, as rehearse far too many times this week, spread ourselves across the stage with Chloe in the middle, who, even with all her Slytherin faults, knew how to work a crowd. We boys bowed and the girls dropped low into a curtsy to rival Beauxbatons to gentle applause. Chloe adopted a big smile and threw a few 'bedroom eyes' at some of the men in the crowd causing a louder applause. I, not wanting to be upstaged by that slimy snake, winked at a group of young witches I assumed were from Salem which sent high, swooning shrieks across the hall. Score 1 to Jamie.

"Thank you very much, Hogwarts." That was our cue to file off the stage and onto the only empty table in the room. "James." Professor Longbottom warned as I made a quick pit stop to send a few more hearts into a storm at a table of Hogwarts ladies. "We warmly welcome our Teams and their schools to our humble abode today in celebration. Now I know some of you follow the points are already know the destination of this year's Championship Cup, but before I officially announce the winners, I'd like to give you a little food for thought." Professor Longbottom then reached into his robes for a piece of parchment. Me, Fred and a few others (most likely family) groaned. Not an Uncle Nev speech.

"Some of you were honoured guests this year to our annual remembrance ball, as a community, I believe we've come so far from the days of Voldemort-" some of the older folk in the room gasped. "- we've gone from a world so scared of each other, you'd barely see our countries interacting, and here we are now. Every major Wizarding School on the planet breaking bread together." Pause for a small cheer. Namely from the Brazilian and Uagadou tables. Seriously, what are those guys on? "My students will tell you I have a habit of going on too long – shut up James- so I shall leave it there. It gives me great honour to congratulate 2021 winners – Beauxbatons Academy of Magic!" The room erupted into a mixture of polite applause and loud cheers as the powder blue team made their way back onto the stage. Once they were on stage, I could get a good look at the team. Or particularly, the one member who broke my nose in our last match together. Her gown resembled pure liquid skies with its glitter and the way it flowed, fitting her petite curves perfectly before pooling at her feet. The front was sat high on her neck, as Wood had pointed out, Delacroix was more business in the front, party in the back that way. However the back of the dress was non-existent(aside from the skirt following from her bum), leaving her pale, well-toned flesh on display directly leading my eyes to her heart shaped bum that she unintentionally swayed slightly as she walked. As I expected, Charron did not approach the magical microphone to give an acceptance speech. What I didn't expected was for Delacroix to do so.

"Thank you for such a warm welcome, Professor Longbottom. Your school is truly beautiful." She smiled warmly. Her voice didn't hold the broke accent I was expecting. It was clipped and fresh, not dissimilar to Aunt Hermione's. In all our years competing, I'd only ever heard her speak French. "We are truly humbled to have won this year, the competition was strong,"- lies. The only true competition had been Hogwarts for them. "And we very much look forward to next year's championships. Unfortunately, it's now time for us to be typically French and drink rather too much wine in rather a too smug of a fashion. Thank you" a small rumble of laughter ended her speech and the team bowed and left in a neat line back to their tables.

"Good." Fred muttered under his breath next to me. "Short and sweet – just the way I like it."

"That's not all that's 'short and sweet' with you is it?" Chloe smiled across at him, clapping for Beauxbatons at the same time. Fred stuck his tongue out at her.

"One- Get a room." Avril counted off her fingers, "and Two- short and sweet means the food will be here in 3-2-1" That girl had impeccable timing. We all dug in to the fresh platters that appeared on our table and filling our goblets full of whatever wine or mead we could reach first.

A few hours later, I flung myself down onto an empty chair. I'd been wrangled into dancing with some old witch my Dad knew, as expected and I couldn't very well say no, not with the press camera's flashing in all directions. After seeing one of the Salem witches from before heading straight for me, I decided it was time for a quick exit from the dance floor and found a nice shady spot to prop myself up at the bar.

"Now whatever would bring the famous James Potter to the bar in the middle of the party?" I heard a clipped voice almost drawl behind me. I turned my attention from the bar keeper to the voice. Nina Delacroix had perched herself, somehow, on one of the stools with her pretty dress still spilling onto the floor. In her hand, I noticed a half empty glass of punch.

"Oh, you know – Just needed a break from my adoring fans!" I laughed, she laughed, we all laughed. "Can I get you another?" I asked making some odd gesture to her glass. She nodded and I ordered.

"So." She said.

"So." I replied. I'm the master of conversation.

"Sorry about your nose." Delacroix stated simply.

"Don't worry about it – Turns out my dad is pretty good at resetting noses." I shrugged it off. It had hurt like hell, but she didn't need to know that.

"Yes. Your Mother has quite a famous right hook." Or temper? Mum could never control herself on the pitch.

"Can't argue with that." I laughed. "So what do your parents do?"

"Not a clue." She said before taking a sip of her punch.

"Always busy?"

"Something like that." She nodded. I was completely clueless. "They're dead. I think"

"Shit. I'm sorry." I am the world's biggest moron. I didn't know what to do with myself now so stood there like an idiot just staring at my drink.

"Don't be." I felt her hand on mine. She was pretty cold for wearing such a heavy dress. "Not like you did it is it!" I gave a shaky laugh. True I guess.

"Your English is amazing by the way." I shuffled closer to her, our hands still touching.

"Thanks. Yours isn't too bad either." I let out a bit of a nervous chuckle. "I grew up in Dover." Ah that made more sense.

We carried on basic chit chat through some more of the night, my head steadily getting fuzzier as each hour and each glass of punch passed.


	2. Chapter 2

11th June 2021

My head hurt. Wait no. That was a total understatement. All my bones ached more than after a month of intensive training and I was sure someone had harnessed the sun and had just casually propped it up against the side of my bed. I was also pretty sure I'd been gargling a combination of lighter fluid and sand last night too by the way my throat felt and I could actually smell my own breath. The smell was more than enough to make a person sick. And that person would be me.

I, with about the same level of co-ordination as Bambi on ice, got out of bed and sprinted across the dorm into our shared bathroom where I promptly emptied my entire body into the porcelain throne. And on it. And around it. And I think there was some on the dorm floor too.

"Morning, Lover-boy." I turned myself back around, still hugging the toilet bowl. Fred was stood in the doorway, already dressed and playing with an apple, a huge, shit eating grin on his face.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing." He smiled. I turned back to hang my head over the putrid water. "I just fancied finding out whose lipstick is on your arse."

"What?!" I shouted spinning around on my heels, landing on said supposed lipstick stained arse. Fred chuckled before holding out his hand to me. It's important to note here that Fred and I have seen each other naked far more times than is probably necessary. The curse of being cousins, team mates and roommates. I, still being rather uncoordinated and also possibly still under the effects of too much fire whiskey last night, needed to be propped up the whole way to the mirror where I could thoroughly inspect my delicious rear. "Well, would you look at that?" I half whispered twisting my hips a bit to get a good look at the peach, glossy smear just at the top of my left buttock.

"Pray, old man, do tell – Who was the fair maiden scurrying from your bed at sunrise this morning, that nearly sent me flying down the stairs?." Fred keeps that infuriating smirk on his face the whole time.

"Oh god." I groan letting myself fall back onto my bed. "I honestly don't remember. Tell me, Freddie, was she pretty?"

"Mate, no one's pretty after a night of drinking so heavy they slept with you!" Fred laughed and I heard a laugh-turned-cough come from Dennis' bed at the other end of the dorm. "She's got your jumper though."

"What?" I said I groaned rubbing the side of my very sore temple. "Which one?"

"Quidditch. Only just about covered her arse with the way she was running."

12th June 2021

And I still didn't remember the following morning when my darling baby bro stuffed a folded, and slightly scrunched, newspaper into my eggs benedict. It didn't take a genius to work out why my normally reserved and quiet brother had stomped over from the Slytherin table with his hair all mussed like mine and Dad's and his face redder than Mum's hair. Right there on the front page was a large picture of myself, rather drunk, at the championship ball. I was spinning some pretty girl around the dancefloor in a fairly amateur way both of us occasionally stumbling. Eventually the pretty girl turned towards picture-me and smiled, we were both laughing and I realised I was fraternising with the enemy. I was dancing with Nina Delacroix. I could feel my own eyes widen when noticed she had worn the exact shade of pretty peach gloss that I had been scrubbing off my bum mid-hangover yesterday. A great big headline flashed above us as we kissed, 'International Affairs'.

Great.

"Care to explain why we're all in the papers again?" Albus hissed. He hated whenever the family ended up in the press. Usually it was followed by someone trying to say he was going to be the next dark lord, so I can't really blame the kid.

"Drink. Lots of drink." I sort of mumbled. I was a little preoccupied with the fact I slept with Nina Delacroix. Or at the very least, she'd seen me in my birthday suit.

"What the hell James!" He leaned in closer to me. "Mum made you promise you'd behave and not do anything stupid. Getting yourself into the papers with some stupid French whore isn't behaving."

"Al, nothing went down, just danced and clearly didn't see the cameras." I sighed. The less Albus knew the better. "Anyway – I can't be expected to never have a date at these things." Albus messed his hair up further, sighed and then sat back onto the bench like a normal human being.

"Sorry." He finally said while I was getting myself some fresh-non-newspaper-ruined eggs. "I got a bit jittery."

"You think?"

"Looks like you had a nice evening at the ball then?" Al smiled, still being too young this year to go meant all he could offer was casual pleasantries. AKA his normal chitchat. That's how it was, I was a ladies man, Al was the sensible one and Lily... Well Lily was a downright rebel.

"What I can remember," I smiled, mouth attractively full of eggs. "Do not remember a thing of this though." I nodded to the now completely discarded paper. I did remember some things. More flashes. I remember chatting at the bar and that we were laughing at something. But not kissing her and definitely nothing that would have resulted in the lipstick.

"Well, I'm going to go. Need to go get my homework back from Rose." I looked up at him with one raised eye brow. Rose didn't take any of the same classes as him. And she was as stiff as Aunt Hermione was over doing your own work. "Fine I need to find them. The family still don't know." He sighed.

Who knew, ickle baby Rosie with big bad Malfoy? Well Al did, and now me. And in about 5 seconds, so would Fred.

"Guess who's screwing the enemy?" I grin happily as Fred joins me, pouring himself a bucket of coffee.

"You?"

"Wrong enemy."

"I knew it," He muttered. "Al's gay isn't he?" I nearly choked on my eggs.

"No, I don't think anyway," I finished chewing the last bit of egg. "Rosie-Posy, apple of Daddy's eye."

"No way!" Fred laughed loud enough to make the rather tiny firstie next to him jump out of his skin. "Well this makes things WAY more interesting."

After we'd finished breakfast we went our separate ways, Fred to Muggle studies and me to the Quidditch pitch. I was still half nursing my hangover and figured that a sprint and maybe a bit of a whiz around on my broom should send it packing. If not, it beat sitting around all lonely in the common room. It was only when I reached the locker rooms and was greeted with a foreign pair of boobs that I realised I wouldn't be working out alone.

"Oh, Shit, sorry!" I mumbled physically covering my eyes. I've seen all the girls on the team almost naked. This wasn't any of them.

"Okay." The vaguely familiar voice declared. "It's clear."

Nina Delacroix stood, hands on hips, right in front of me. She was totally the last person I expected to see this morning. With no makeup on I could see she had a slight 'pink' to her cheeks and that her eye brows and lashes were the same blonde as her hair. She also had a small scar on her forehead, above her left eye.

"Sorry for just stealing your changing rooms." She didn't sound very sorry. More polite? "I just really had to get away from them all."

"Oh?" I'd always been under the impression that the Beauxbatons team got on well.

"I've been 'fraterniser avec l'ennemi'" she sighed.

"Ah- shit – sorry about that." I felt awful. Because of me she'd been dragged into a nice little front pager.

"Not your fault." She smiled. Something about the way her eyes wrinkled when she smiled, and most likely remains of the fact my body remembered what my head didn't, had me fighting to not kiss her.

"Mind if I join you?" I gestured out to the field. I needed to get out of what felt like a steadily smaller room. That had no windows. And no one else just me and her.

"Not at all." She smiled again, adjusting her pony tail. "If you can keep up."

I have to admit, for her tiny 5ft nothing frame, Delacroix was faster on the ground than I gave her credit for. And way stronger too. The girl's body was nothing but delicate, until she started to work out, then these muscles seemed to appear from nowhere! Flexing and tensing under her skin while she ran through a series of detailed warm ups and circuit runs. I'd never really been into 'fit' girls, but this was definitely attractive.

After we'd both finished our little training sessions, mine far less intense than hers was, we found ourselves sitting out, enjoying the sunshine, by the far end goal posts. I was led out sprawling on my back occasionally spreading my arms and legs to make sand angels while Nina was cooling down her muscles with a few stretches. She stopped for a moment, looked at me and opened her mouth. Then shook her head and went back to her stretches.

"What's the matter?" I asked, turning onto my side to face her.

"I was just going to mention the other night." Ah straight to the point, how very French of her.

"What about it?" I was a little nervous now. I didn't know how much to let on. How much did she remember?

"I'm not like that." She said simply as she bent forward to her toes. Sadly her bum was facing away from me. "Not usually, anyway."

"Oh. No. Yeah. Well me either!" I gave a half arsed laugh and Nina threw me a look that said under no circumstances did she believe that. "I don't think any different of you if that's what's bothering you?"

"No." She said. "Well maybe a little. I sort of like you."

Wasn't a shock – I'm irresistible.

"You're pretty cool too." For a bird that enjoyed breaking my nose. "Could I owl you over the summer?"

It felt like a lifetime before Nina finally nodded and smiled before she muttered a quick 'got to go' and jogged back to the impressive structure Beauxbatons had erected in the school grounds. Not even five minutes after I'd watched Nina leave I heard someone panting behind me. Wood plonked his scrawny, annoying arse down, clearly exhausted by his little sprint across the pitch.

"So."

"So."

"You and Delacroix then?"

"No just me and just her."

"But I saw the paper's this morning."

"Nothing of any importance, Wood." I sighed. I was beyond frustrated already.

"And I saw her out on the pitch with you before I came down." He said then thought a second. "Honestly it was the only reason I came down, wanted to see if she has a thing for English men." He grinned stupidly. "I'd give my left ball for a night with her."

I don't know why I did it. I knew later I'd have to explain that I just did it for 'funsies' to Dad and Uncle Nev, but I did it anyway. I punched Wood hard in the face. Twice. Okay three times.

Just as I predicted, I was dragged up to the headmaster's office by my ear by the ancient Madam Hooch after she had hexed me off of Wood where I was happily continuing punching him while he kept insisting that Delacroix would totally be into him. Well that probably wasn't true but it had been implied. In several ways.

I'm not sure why I got so worked up about it. I mean, we'd compared notes before now. We'd even been each other's wingmen at house parties. But while I sat there, in front of Uncle Nev (who was filling the time between sending Dad another message and him getting here with pointless chit chat and 'Dad jokes'), I realised how bloody stupid it all was. I didn't know the girl from Adam! It was still only 'possible' that we'd spent the night together sans clothing. And aside from this morning's training, we'd never spent any period of time actually with each other. I had no reason to beat Wood up for a few tongue in cheek comments.

As the fire turned green though, I lifted my head high, as I always did, and pushed those thoughts way down beneath everything else I knew – If I was going to get away with this, I had to really be in character!

"Morning Nev." Dad stepped out of the fire and brushed himself off. "James." He gave me the once over, trying to give me the 'look' that Mum does. It didn't work. Not the same way anyway. When Mum does it, it makes you want to run to the hills, become a nomad, change your name to 'No-name McNobody' and live off pickled sprats for the rest of your life. When Dad does 'the look' it's just funny. He said it himself on my very first train ride – as long as I don't kill anyone or take over the world through brute force, there's nothing I could do to upset him.

"Sorry, Harry, procedure and all." Uncle Nev offered his hand out and then made a weird gesture to the tea pot in the corner of the room. Dad shook his head. I sort of would have enjoyed a cuppa' right now but apparently convicts don't get brew rights around here anymore. "Fighting with Wood's lad."

"James, we talked about this." Years ago, Father but yes.

"He deserved it." I spat out rolling my eyes. Thank you Mum for my amazing eye rolling abilities.

"Do tell." Uncle Nev sounded bored, like he was fed up with hearing every excuse I could ever think up.

"He was insinuating things about people. Things that I'm sure they'd rather not people say." I danced around a bit.

"About who?"

"Oh. I get it." Dad smiled in a creepy 'I know what you did last Summer' kind of way. "It's about that girl in the paper, isn't it?" Ah. Well, there's a reason he's an Auror, you know.

"Yeah." God damn my run away mouth! "I mean, what girl?" Uncle Nev chuckled and Dad just smiled at me.

"Christ, Jamie, you're 17, you've had girlfriends before and I know you all talk smack about them." Dad sighed. "Drives your mother crazy."

"Not my girlfriend."

"Fling then."

"Not sure she's that either." I was confused. What did I actually feel towards Nina? Right now, I was putting it down to pent up manly frustrations that I couldn't even remember what we had or hadn't done. Had to be something right? The way Nina spoke before?

"Whatever she is, you've liked girls before." Uncle Nev finished for Dad. "You know you can't go around beating folk up who say things you don't agree with." I nodded. "Now, how about a real drink, Harry?" This time Dad nodded.

"You know, if you want to find out more about that Delacroix girl, you should ask your mum." Dad said before taking a sip, and later wincing, of the steaming whiskey Uncle Nev just handed him. "Did an interview with her last year when she signed with Bayeux."

Mental note made to owl Mum and Nina when I got the chance.


	3. Chapter 3

30th July 2021

Mum never did reply to my owl. Not properly, anyway. I just had a swift warning that Delacroix's contract was difficult and I should back away now if I really cared one iota about her. I'm a stubborn wazzock and still owled her anyway. Not that she replied.

I had been a little put out by her long distance rebuttal and had spent the last week of term wallowing in self pity. Currently, being home gave me the perfect amount of wound-licking time, however I lacked the audience to make it worthwhile. A quick owl let me know that Fred was also in a mindless state of boredom at his dad's joke shop and was in need of rescuing. Ever the hero, I threw on my superhero cape (Read: jeans and a t-shirt that wasn't covered in this morning's breakfast) and apparated to the Leaky Caldron. I waved over the bar to Alice and wandered through the back to the brick wall. I hummed slightly as I tapped out the pattern - what can I say! Being out of the house was doing me good!

"Jamie! How are you?!" Uncle George bounced around the shop giving me a bear hug once I was in arm's reach.

"I'm good, Uncle George, you?" I smiled, eyes casually searching for my gangly cousin.

"Good good… You here for Freddie?"

"And some Bruise paste, if you've got some." I rubbed my arm - Lily had given me a corker of a bruise the other week that was refusing to go away by itself. George nodded, chuckling to himself while he wandered off to the back room. A minute or two later, Fred appeared with my bruise paste while I was playing with a pygmy puff in a rather charming shade of blue.

"Dad said to stop pissing off weasley women - says it'll get you nowhere fast." Fred smiled before chucking the pot at me. "He actually said to just stop pissing women off in general, but I figured we'd start small." Arse.

"You should become a comedian." I said dryly. "Where do you want to eat anyway?"

"Caldron?" As always - Fred had an almighty crush and Uncle Nev and Hannah's daughter, Alice. Not that he'd do anything during term time, when Uncle Nev might actually go all protective dad on him, but holidays? Uncle Nev still at the castle and Alice under Hannah's much more 'free rein' parenting - game on.

We made idle chit chat as we wandered, Vic and Ted and their possible/not so possible engagement mainly. Eventually, we had made it through the winding street and back into the dark pub. Our usual table had been taken, so I felt I'd get revenge on Freddie back forcing him to sit right up next to Alice at the bar. You see, he prefers much more to just watch her from afar. At least until he's had a few drinks.

"Afternoon, Al," I grinned. Fred just mumbled next to me. "You guys still doing those burgers?"

"The Dragon grilled ones?" Alice smiled now standing in front of us. I had to say she was cute. If Fred wasn't interested, I may have been.

"Yeah!" I nodded - last time we were here they were new on the menu, grilled over dragon flame and drowned in chilli sauce on a thick seeded bun - heaven!

"Best sellers," She smiled, making a quick note. "Any drinks?"

"Butterbeer for me."

"And Fred?" She prompted. Fred's mouth opened and shut like some overgrown goldfish. Being the helpful person I was, I gave Fred a sharp jab with my elbow, nearly sending him flying from his stool.

"Just a water." He coughed, throwing me a dirty look while he straightened himself out. It didn't take long for Alice to slide our drinks to us and moment later popped to plates of delicious goodness in front of us. We ate and talked. Sometimes with Alice, mostly not.

Somewhere in the middle of our meal, a new girl appeared from behind the bar. She tied an apron around her waist and moved silently around the room. I'll be a man and admit that I didn't pay her the blindest bit of interest for the most part, until she stood next to me, reaching over the bar to pass Alice a tray full of empty glasses. Something was extremely familiar to me. Looking at her didn't help. Not from this angle. She was small, her skin pale and her cheeks hollow. There were dark circles under her eyes and her murky hair was carelessly thrown back into a messy bun. The I realised. I knew her perfume.

"Nina?"

"Shit." She muttered, resting her arms on the bar and dropping her eyes for a moment. Suddenly she perked up, painting on a smile and turning to look at me fully. "James! How can I help?" She sounded as fake as spray on tan.

"What you doing here? I thought you'd be in Bayeux now." I could see the pain in her eyes, she'd lost weight since I'd seen her last.

"I decided to move in a different direction." she fiddled with her fingernail. "Thought you'd seen the papers." I shook my head. "Ah well… I realised it always quite for me. Having a think about life, you know?" She smiled meekly.

"Oh." Really, James, that's the best you can do! Common, boy, pick it up! "Well if you ever need a friend, you can always drop me an owl." She didn't look convinced. "Swear I mean 'friends'." She nodded, gave me a brief smile and went on her way.

Later that night I was still obsessed by my meeting with Nina. Something wasn't sitting right. She didn't look at all well and it was well documented that the girl was more than born for quidditch. While I flicked peas over my plate with my knife, I missed my parents sharing looks over the table. There was a 'thud' and my right shin burst into pain.

"Ah!" I called out, looking for the culprit.

"Mum asked you a question." Albus answered looking at me with just as much concern as both parents. Lily was focused on her food. Ten guesses who kicked me. No prizes.

"Oh, sorry." I shrugged. "Fairies and all that."

"Mhmm, we've noticed." Mum said. "Anything we can help with?"

"It's nothing really." Did you know you could make words with peas? "Just worried about a friend."

"Oh!" Dad smiled. "A 'Friend'"

"Yes, father, a friend." I sighed.

"Is this the same 'friend' you beat the Wood boy up over?" Mum's eyes flashed. I needed to be careful here. Play the feminist card. That might work.

"Actually yes." I nodded. "However, you should know I would never have hit him if he hadn't objectified her. She's a person, you know." Dad chuckled quietly, Lily rolled her eyes (So did Mum to be honest with you) and Albus nearly choked on the carrot he'd just tried to swallow.

"Nice," Mum sighed. " You know you can come to us for anything right?" I nodded.

"She just doesn't look too well, making bad choices, all that 'stuff'." Mum was nodding. The other three looked entirely shocked at my comment. Like I don't care about other human beings or something. Note to self - ain't nobody gettin' nothin' for christmas this year.

"The Bayeux player?" Mum said knowling. I hate it when she does that- turns on the 'Mum-Powers'. I just nodded. "I'll see what I can find out."


End file.
